


100quills

by Celandine



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: Angst, Bondage, Community: 100quills, Drabble, Drabble Collection, Drama, F/F, F/M, Ficlet, Ficlet Collection, Gen, Humor, Infidelity, M/M, Multi, Romance, Smut, Threesome - F/F/M, Threesome - F/M/M, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-06-28
Updated: 2006-06-28
Packaged: 2017-10-12 16:59:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 50
Words: 11,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/127056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Celandine/pseuds/Celandine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drabbles and ficlets and even a couple of 1000+ word fics, all written for the 100quills LJ community. Harry was my subject, and I worked from a prompt table of 50 words to write these.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> Pairing (if any) is noted in the notes for each chapter. Most chapters are general in rating, but a few are adult and are so noted. The major character death is there in more than one ficlet, but offscreen/undetailed. Several of the Harry/Draco pieces fit into the 'verse of my long fic, _Better Than Revenge_ , but it is unnecessary to have read that as they stand alone.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco waits. Prompt #18, "Child." Harry/Draco.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written also to fill the "She" challenge at [hd100](http://community.livejournal.com/hd100/).

Draco paced the waiting room. Ten strides across, whirl, ten back across the ugly green carpet. It wasn't as if he hadn't experienced this before, with Daphne, but now it was Harry's turn to hold someone's hand as his child was born.

He could hear Ginny's cries, muffled through the wall. They stopped, and he tensed: one hand clutching the back of a chair, eyes fixed on the door.

"They're both all right." Harry's face was joyous as he stepped out to embrace Draco. "Come on, love, come and meet our daughter Rosemary."

Draco took a shuddering breath and followed.


	2. Determination

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry knows what he must do; Ron disagrees. Prompt #29, "Quarrel."

"No!" The hurt expression on Ron's face was almost enough to make Harry change his mind. Almost. He clenched his fists, nails biting into his palms. "I can't risk anyone else. Don't you see? It's not that I think you're no good, you know that. But if something happened to you..."

"You just don't want to share the glory," spat out Ron. "It's not about keeping us safe. The Death Eaters could turn up here too. Forget it. Hermione and I have been with you from year one; we're not staying behind."

But as Ron reached for him, Harry Disapparated.


	3. Sight and Sound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Which sense better alleviates loss? Prompt #6, "Picture."

There's a Muggle saying, _a picture is worth a thousand words_. Every time I look at the photographs of my mum and dad, I wonder. Would I rather see them, smiling and waving at me, looking so young, so hopeful? Or would I give up one of those pictures to hear their voices, just once? Even if it were to say something ordinary, like "take out the rubbish bins," or "come to the table, your dinner's getting cold." Maybe it's just as well that I haven't the choice to make. It's better to focus on the one who killed them.


	4. The End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry fulfills his destiny. Prompt #44, "Silence."

He had imagined what would happen after Voldemort's death a hundred times, dwelling on it to lull himself to sleep at night in one of the uncomfortable hideouts the Order was forced to use. Cheers, cries, jubilation – something to express relief at the end of the long threat, the long fight. Or perhaps, if some of the Death Eaters remained, then simply more crashes, shouts, explosions; taunts and threats that rang in the ears and seared across the soul. Never, in all of Harry's imaginings, had he expected this grey and arid silence. He fell to his knees and wept.


	5. It Feels Natural

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ron can't believe what Harry is telling him. Prompt #43, "Natural." Harry/Draco.

"You're joking." Ron looked at Harry pleadingly; when Harry shook his head, he turned to Hermione. "Tell me he's having me on."

"No, he's not, Ron. I've known for ages." Hermione blushed. "I saw a mark on Draco's neck, and guessed, and asked. I thought you might have figured it out too."

"Why would I guess that Harry's been snogging _Draco_?" Ron's voice was anguished. "I thought you liked Ginny. How can you be in love with _Draco Malfoy_?"

Harry shrugged. "I still like Ginny, just not in the same way. There's something about being with Draco... it feels natural."


	6. She's My Girl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They're young, they're in love. Prompt #12, "Wonder." Harry/Ginny.

Ginny slipped her hand into his as they walked across the grounds.

"I didn't think this would ever happen," she said, turning her face towards the sky, the sunlight making her hair blaze, tendrils of it drifting in the wind. Harry's breath caught.

"Neither did I," he admitted, tugging her to a stop. "You always seemed to have another boyfriend. Neville. Michael. Dean."

She laughed. "You went out with Parvati and Cho."

"So I did." Harry leaned forward, and Ginny tilted her head until their lips met. When they broke apart, he wondered why he hadn't asked Ginny out first.


	7. As Gentle As Bright

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some moments should be enjoyed slowly. Prompt #7, "Gentle." Harry/Draco.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title is from Thomas Moore, _On the Death of Sheridan_ : "Whose wit in the combat, as gentle as bright, / Ne'er carried a heart-stain away on its blade." This drabble was inspired by a sketch by [lillithium](http://www.livejournal.com/users/lillithium/), which is in a locked post on her LJ but which she has kindly given permission for me to put at the end of this drabble as well.

Slim elegant fingers tugged at Harry's shirt, unbuttoning each button in a movement so tender it was like a kiss in itself.

"Here, Harry, let me," murmured Draco, and the clean white cotton fell open, sliding down Harry's shoulder.

He shivered pleasurably as Draco's hand smoothed across his back in a loving caress. Warm air from the open window echoed that touch, tangling Draco's fair hair, blowing the thin curtains around them as a cloudy veil.

Letting his fingers steal around Draco's waist, Harry leaned forward, his eyelids lowering as he waited for Draco's lips to brush against his own.

____spacer____


	8. Turn, Turn, Turn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As time passes, some things do change. Prompt #17, "Now." Harry/Draco.

For years I hated him, and the feeling was assuredly mutual as we baited each other.

Then he fled Hogwarts, that night I can't remember without anger. When he reappeared, entreating pardon, pleading to help the Order, for months I didn't trust him, so I watched him whenever I could, wondering when he would betray us too.

After Voldemort's death I spent weeks trying to get the thought of him out of my head. Three days ago I asked him to come to the Leaky for a drink.

I brush my lips over his flushed face and say, "Draco. Now."


	9. Second Best

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry isn't sure if he's doing the right thing, marrying Hermione. Prompt #40, "Promises." Harry/Hermione. Background character death. Vague allusion to H/Hr/R.

"Are you sure, Hermione?" Harry asked once more. It had been Hermione's idea to begin with, but perhaps she had thought better of it.

"I can't mourn him forever." Serious brown eyes met green in a level gaze. "We'll both always miss him. But it wasn't your fault."

"Ginny thinks so."

"Ginny's wrong. She and Ron were always close – not as close as the twins, but still. She's needed someone to blame, that's all." Hermione laid her hand on Harry's arm. "Don't hold it against her."

"No." Harry huffed out a breath. "If you can forgive me, I can forgive her."

"Good, because she's going to be standing beside me tomorrow and I'd hate to have you two glaring at each other over my shoulder. Keep that in mind because you won't be seeing me until the ceremony, you know."

"That's such a ridiculous custom," Harry complained.

"Tell it to my mother and Molly Weasley." Hermione stood on tiptoe and pecked him on the lips. "Till tomorrow."

Back in his own flat – soon to be shared with Hermione, until they found a house, and why she had been unwilling to move in with him before now he still didn't understand – Harry poured himself a glass of firewhiskey and sprawled on the sofa.

The photograph of himself, Hermione, and Ron that had been taken at Bill and Fleur's wedding stood in its silver frame on the table next to him, and Harry picked it up. Three faces smiled at him, three hands waved. Picture-Harry's other hand was shoved in his pocket, but picture-Ron and picture-Hermione were holding hands.

It hadn't been Harry's fault that Ron died. The plan of attack had been the best that they could devise; it had simply been Ron's bad luck that he had encountered Bellatrix Lestrange and been unable to duck the Killing Curse she had hurled in time. It could just as easily have been Hermione or Harry himself.

He laid the photograph against his knees and took a gulp of his drink. "It never should have been this way. We were all supposed to make it through. Then you and Hermione could have married." Harry sighed. "But you're gone, and Ginny blames me, and I guess Hermione and I had no one but each other. So when she suggested we should get married, how could I say no?"

Picture-Ron looked at him, almost as if he could hear, and nudged picture-Hermione, who stopped waving and put her arm around the waist of picture-Harry. Picture-Ron nodded and spread his free hand wide, as if to say, "See? She loves us both."

"I know she loves me," Harry told the photograph. "And I love her too. But she always loved you best. It wasn't supposed to be like this." He watched the three of them, leaning on one another, until he fell asleep still dressed and with the lights on.

The wedding was scheduled for four o'clock, and the guests were beginning to stir and look questioningly at one another when Harry raced in at five minutes to four and took his place. The Minister of Magic had insisted on being the one to conduct the ceremony; it wasn't every day that the Hero of the Wizarding World got married. He scowled at Harry's tardiness, but Neville just looked relieved.

"Thank goodness," said Neville in an undertone. "I wasn't sure what I'd do if you weren't here. Imagine me having to explain to Hermione."

"It's all right," Harry said. He turned and faced down the aisle, waiting.

Ginny walked up first, dressed in pale green and looking as if she couldn't decide whether to smile or cry. Harry gave her a quick nod, but his attention was all on Hermione behind her. She wore ivory lace and for once her hair had been tamed into a crown of braids and tendrils, shimmering brown under her veil.

As she reached the front and before the Minister could begin speaking, Harry cleared his throat.

"Minister, if I may say a few words to my bride first?"

"Most irregular." But Harry was who he was, and with a harrumph, the Minister stepped back. "Very well, if you must."

"Hermione." Harry took her hands. "For the last time, are you sure? Because I don't want to be your second best, your consolation prize because Ron isn't here. It wouldn't be fair to either of us."

She disengaged one hand to flip back the veil, looking at him steadily. "You're the one I want, Harry. You're not second best. You never were. I always loved you both."

He swallowed. "I loved you both too. I would have..."

Hermione put her finger to his lips. "I know. Ron knew. Let's not keep everyone waiting now, shall we?"

Together they turned to where the Minister was gaping at them in confusion. "All right, sir."

"Right." The Minister pulled himself together, and began. "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today..."


	10. St. Ceneu's Graveyard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry visits his parents. Prompt #36, "Cemetery."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a moment from _Better Than Revenge_ , if it had gone a somewhat different way.

He fingers the cold stone. Less than twenty years, but already the incised letters are worn, moss and lichen eating them into oblivion. Or perhaps whoever paid for it – and who _was_ it, he wonders – skimped, had the carving done on the cheap. He rubs at the green corruption. One name. Two. Three. Three? His own name is there, showing that he died aged one year. A Muggle must have put up the stone, assuming their baby had died in the fire too. He shivers, but the thought is oddly freeing. If he is already dead, what more can happen?


	11. In Case

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brave with ribbons they will set out for battle. Prompt #50, "Ribbon." Harry/Hermione/Ron.

"You want me to wear a _what_?" Harry's voice cracked as Hermione waved the floppy length in his face.

"A ribbon," she said firmly. "And you as well, Ron. Look, I have one." She twisted her head so they could see a flash of scarlet under bushy brown hair.

"Only ponces like Lucius Malfoy tie their hair back like that," Ron objected, backing away as she gave up on Harry for the moment and started towards him.

"Don't worry, I'm going to put it round your upper arm." Hermione seized his shoulder and made quick work of it, tying a neat bow, scowling, then knotting it so it couldn't come undone.

"Why, Hermione?" Harry asked.

"Ladies gave their champions favors before they went into battle."

"But you're going with us."

"And... to recognize our allies, in the fighting. In case we get Transfigured or something."

"Oh, all right," Harry acquiesced. Hermione wrapped the ribbon around his arm, and he hugged her quickly, drawing Ron in as well. The three of them together – they could do anything, even defeat Voldemort.

As he went through the doorway, he just barely heard her whisper, "And in case someone needs to identify a body."


	12. Even-handed Justice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry must set free an old enemy. Prompt #14, "Honor."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title is from Shakespeare's _Macbeth_ , Act I, scene VI, lines 9-13: "But in these cases / We still have judgment here; that we but teach / Bloody instructions, which, being taught, return / To plague the inventor; this even-handed justice / Commends the ingredients of our poison'd chalice / To our own lips."

"I've never been able to use it against him, not properly," Harry had argued, but the Wizengamot overrode him, even though the only person he had ever loathed more than Snape had died by Harry's hand. If Harry had managed to use both Occlumency and Legilimency against Voldemort, he could do it now.

So he took a deep breath and met Snape's gaze, striving to force his way through the curtain of cloudy thoughts. Thin lips twisted bitterly, and suddenly Harry could see –

It was due to Harry's testimony that Severus Snape was acquitted of the murder of Albus Dumbledore.


	13. Enough Is Too Much

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry decides you really _can_ have too much of a good thing. Prompt #47, "Chocolate."

Sometimes Harry thought that it was some sort of odd poetic justice. He had spent his childhood envying the fact that his cousin Dudley was allowed to eat all the chocolate he liked. Now Harry could hardly bear to look at the stuff.

"Come on, Harry." Hermione's voice was gentle, but a trace of impatience edged it. "You have to have it, you know you do. It's the only thing that will make you feel better."

Reluctantly Harry took the bar from her hand. "As soon as the Dementors are dealt with, I'll never eat chocolate again," he promised himself.


	14. Gone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry remembers those who are gone. Implied character death. Angst. Prompt #45, "Who?"

The voices echoed.

 _"I hope I'm in Gryffindor, it sounds by far the best."_

Whispers, some.

 _"You were the youngest House player in a hundred years, weren't you, Harry?"_

Others like ordinary conversation.

 _"I don' ever want ter go back ter Azkaban."_

He could almost see the faces.

 _"You told me about the dragons. I would've gone down in the first task if you hadn't told me what was coming."_

He named each one over to himself.

 _"I'm perfectly clear who he is, thanks, Molly."_

So many.

 _"Your blood is worth more than mine."_

All for him to be here.


	15. A Bit of Privacy, Please

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The outside may not match the inside... and sometimes that's a very good thing. Prompt #11, "Ice." Harry/Draco.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written also for the "Ice" challenge at [hd100](http://community.livejournal.com/hd100/).

Harry smiles to himself when Draco leans over to the man from the _Daily Prophet_. "If you run that photograph, I can promise you'll regret it." Draco's voice is all steely disdain, as if the man were scarcely worth threatening, and the man stammers, promising no, no, of course he won't, he'll destroy the negative immediately.

When they're alone Harry gazes at Draco, whose hair is so fair it's almost white, skin pale, eyes light grey. He looks like his voice sounded: cold, a snow prince wrapped in Malfoy pride. Underneath, though, there is warmth that is all Harry's own.


	16. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being a hero isn't quite what Harry expected. Prompt #42, "Hero."

He never tried to be a hero, really, even though Hermione had joked about his "hero complex" for years. All he ever did was what seemed necessary at the time, what he couldn't avoid. All right, sometimes he went looking for trouble, but not to be a hero.

Which made standing there to receive the Order of Merlin terribly uncomfortable. He kept being asked to kiss babies, which was ridiculous, and having floo addresses on bits of parchment shoved in his pocket. As soon as it was over, he fled back to Grimmauld Place, almost envying his late godfather's solitude.


	17. Three-Quarter Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What goes around, comes around, and love can't be limited. Prompt #9, "Circle." Ginny/Hermione, Hermione/Viktor, Harry/Hermione, Harry/Ron, Harry/Ron/Hermione, Harry/Ginny/Hermione. Adult but little explicitness, character death implied.

Hermione was glad that Ginny had suggested they practice kissing before the Yule Ball. When Viktor's lips touched hers, and then his tongue, she didn't jump away with surprise as she might otherwise have done. It was quite nice, actually, she thought, putting her arms around his neck.

She ignored the fact that it wasn't Viktor she really wanted to be with... and she pushed to the back of her mind the question of just who it was she'd prefer to be kissing.

* * *

  
"I have to, Ginny." It hurt to say the words, but it would hurt more if anything happened to her.

"I know." She nodded, eyes bright. A featherlight kiss brushed across Harry's cheek. "Maybe after it's all over..."

"Maybe." Harry forced himself to add, "But... if you meet someone else, it's okay."

"You, too." She sounded as if she meant it. He hoped she did.

* * *

  
As he entered the room, Ron didn't even look at the bed, not until he heard a gasp. He turned.

A very red-faced Hermione was hastily reaching for a sheet to pull over herself and Harry.

"Ron..." she said pleadingly.

He fled.

* * *

  
Harry wasn't sure how to talk to Ron about what had happened, but he knew he had to. Everything they'd planned to do would take the three of them, and if Ron left, it would all fall apart.

"It wasn't Hermione's idea," he said to Ron's back.

"She didn't exactly seem to object." Ron's voice was thick with bitterness.

"No, but..." Harry took a deep breath and touched Ron's shoulder, ignoring the way Ron tensed as if wanting to shake Harry off. "I wanted you there too, but I didn't know how you'd feel about it."

Ron turned a little at that, blue eyes wary. "What do you mean?"

"I..." Harry's voice cracked. "God, Ron, I love you both. I didn't want to come between you, but I needed someone to help me forget, and Hermione... besides you she's the only one who saw Hagrid..."

"Die." Ron bit off the word. "Didn't you trust me enough to ask _me_ , after all this time?"

"I'm sorry," whispered Harry. He forced himself to meet Ron's gaze.

"Harry... did it ever occur to you that maybe I love you, too?"

* * *

  
Lips touched sweat-damp skin, tasting, teasing. Someone moaned as a prick slid slowly home, reaching across to someone else's hip, clasping another hand, the three of them moving together. It didn't matter whose lips, whose prick, whose hand.

None of them had to be alone anymore.

* * *

  
"Who cares what anyone else thinks?" said Harry defiantly. "We love each other. If we can defeat Voldemort, we deserve a little happiness. There's plenty of room in Grimmauld Place, the three of us can live there when it's all over."

"You thought what the _Daily Prophet_ wrote about you before was bad enough. Just wait till they can publish stories with headlines like 'Love Nest? War Heroes' Kinky Triad.' The Howlers won't stop coming," Ron said.

"So what? I don't want to give either of you up." Harry bent and kissed him, as Hermione watched, smiling above white sheets.

* * *

  
The tiny brown owl dropped a letter on Hermione's lap and swooped away, hooting.

"Who's it from?"

"Ginny," she said, breaking the seal and starting to read. She glanced up at Harry, who was flushing. "She sends her love, Harry."

"Yeah."

Silence for a while, and then, "I know it's weird enough with the three of us, but what about Ginny, Hermione?"

"If you mean... I don't know. She's my closest friend after you and Ron, and I love her. But I think Ron would be more than a little weirded out."

"Weirded out by what?" Ron came in from outdoors and poured himself a cup of tea.

"By, um..." Harry explained, haltingly, and as Hermione expected, Ron exploded at the very idea.

* * *

  
"No! No!"

"Harry!" Hermione tugged at him. "He's _gone_ , can't you see that?" Tears were blinding her, but if they didn't leave _now_ , it would be all three of them dead, not just one.

* * *

  
"Savior of the Wizarding World... hereby award the Order of Merlin, First Class..."

The words rolled over Harry; as soon as he could, he left. The walls of Sirius's house closed around him.

* * *

  
"All he does is fly?" Molly Weasley was less cheerful than she once had been. On the wall of the Burrow's kitchen, three of the clock hands were stilled forever.

"Pretty much, yes." Hermione tried to smile. "At first I thought he was just trying to think things out, but it's been more than a month. I can't... I wondered if Ginny might want to come stay at Grimmauld Place."

"I'm sure she would, dear. She misses her brothers so, it's hard for her to be at home."

* * *

  
"No... Ron..." Harry thrashed, tangling the sheets.

Another nightmare. Every night, often several times. Hermione held him close, the only thing that soothed the terror. It wasn't always Ron's name he called; sometimes it was Ginny's, sometimes her own.

He half-woke, clutching at her. "Hermione. I need..."

She knew what he needed, spread herself open for him as he thrust blindly, seeking the pleasure of a moment to relieve the pain and guilt that bore down on them both.

* * *

  
Harry pushed back his chair while still chewing the last bite of his toast.

"Where are you going?" Hermione asked each morning, even though she knew what he would answer.

"Flying." He mumbled the word and vanished out the door without a glance at either of them.

"I can't bear it," Ginny burst out. "I almost want to... I don't know, use the Bat-Bogey Hex on him, anything to make him _react_. Mum and I both thought it would help if I came to stay, but he hasn't... he doesn't..."

"He does need you," said Hermione. "We both do." She was tired, so tired of being the only one.

* * *

  
"I remembered this too," whispered Ginny, her breath warm in Hermione's ear. "That Yule Ball... when Neville kissed me, I wished it were you."

Hermione touched her, hearing Ginny moan as Hermione's thumb rubbed her clit. "I wanted you, too."

* * *

  
Once she was sure Harry would have fallen into the first deep sleep of the night, Ginny crept into the room.

"Hermione?"

"Yes. The bed's more than big enough for three, I know." There was a catch in her voice; she was remembering Ron, Ginny was sure. She slid under the covers and pressed close to Harry, reaching across him to take Hermione's hand.

"When he has a nightmare, he..."

"You told me." She was ready.

* * *

  
"Ron!" Ron was grinning at him, just as he always did, reaching down to Harry's prick and running his fingers over it. Harry groaned and gave himself up to the touch. "Love you, Ron..."

"I love you, too." The voice in his ear wasn't Ron's, and Harry struggled out of sleep.

"Ginny... oh, fuck!"

She was kneeling over him, sinking down onto him, so warm and wet and soft that he almost came right away.

Hermione kissed his cheek, then his mouth. "Ron would want this," she said firmly as Ginny began to move. He could not resist them both.

* * *

  
"Did you see the _Prophet_?"

"You mean the article with the headline 'Perverse Pad?: Potter's Thrilling Threesome'? I could hardly miss it."

"Almost what Ron predicted." Harry was silent a minute. "I wish it could have been 'Fabulous Foursome,' but maybe that was never meant to be." He pushed back his chair. "I'll be late to practice. Can't have that, not with the match against the Magpies tomorrow."

Hermione nodded. "I have a meeting with the house-elves' representatives this afternoon, Ginny, don't wait dinner for me."

"All right."

They kissed, and Harry smiled.


	18. All in Vain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry wants Remus, but can't have him. Prompt #27, "Hers."

"I'd better be going, Harry, Tonks will be waiting." Remus' voice warmed as he said his wife's name. He stood, light glinting from grey hair.

"Next Thursday, then?" Harry was careful to be casual.

"Of course," came the equally breezy reply. A touch on the shoulder, and he was gone.

Harry looked at the half-empty glass before him. No. He finished the whisky, gasping as it burned down his throat, but did not order another. Tomorrow he would work with Tonks as usual, joking in the Aurors' staff room, chasing down Dark magic. Trying to forget that Remus was hers.


	19. The First Clue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even in primary school Harry was a little different. Prompt #2, "Magical."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Snegurochka gave me the suggestion that this could be pre-Hogwarts -- so a big *mwah* of thanks to her!

One of Dudley's favorite ways to lose Harry marks was to give him leaky biros. He had figured out how to twist them so that they looked fine, but after about ten minutes of writing, they began to smudge the pages.

Biting his lip, Harry pulled the fourth biro of the day out of his bag, hoping fervently that Dudley had not damaged this one. When the blotches started appearing, he nearly cried.

"Please, please, please," he whispered. "I haven't another with me." He kept on with his essay – he had to – and to his astonishment, the paper stayed clean.


	20. Concealment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry's scribblings might give him away. Prompt #4, "Blank." Implied Harry/Draco.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mistressofrohan was kind enough to give me the bunny for this one!

Meetings were held nightly, now, with reports on where attacks had come, which Death Eaters had been sighted (and, ideally, captured), who among the Order had been injured. Hermione always took notes, her quill slashing ink onto parchment, and Harry tried to do the same. He felt responsible, though Shacklebolt had assured him that he should concentrate on Voldemort. Tonight, though, he had been distracted, daydreaming, and when he realized what he had written over and over on the page, he quickly cast a spell to erase it. It would never do for anyone to learn that he wanted Malfoy.


	21. Laid Bare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The impending chance of death provokes Harry to speak to Snape in ways he might never have done. Prompt #32, "Naked." Possible Harry/Snape, if you squint.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> florahart's suggestion led me here. Many thanks to her! This ficlet eventually spawned others and became the fic "He Plays at Hazard".

The sigh seemed exaggerated, even for Snape. "And just why would I want to listen to your inane maunderings, Potter?"

"Did you have something better to do?" Harry gestured at the bare little room. "We still have eighteen hours to wait before the attack. If we do any magic, it'll be detected, and personally I can't sleep for that long, even if two blankets on a stone floor were less uncomfortable."

"Talking to you is not necessarily preferable to silence," Snape muttered. "Unlike yourself, _I_ have plenty to think about to keep me occupied."

"Like what, potions recipes?"

"As a matter of fact, yes." Snape glowered at him. "I've been trying to reformulate the Wolfsbane Potion to be more stable, so that it can be brewed in advance rather than every month. An improvement that I believe your friend Lupin might appreciate."

"Oh," said Harry, looking down. "I didn't realize..."

"No, you wouldn't have."

"You could talk about it with me," Harry offered.

"As if that could possibly help. Miss Granger, perhaps, but not you."

Harry took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to stay calm. How did Snape _always_ manage to make him feel small? "Even if I don't know nearly as much about the principles of potion-making as you do, discussing it might be useful," he said stubbornly.

"I would rather not." Snape sat on one of the two rickety wooden chair and closed his eyes. "If you _must_ natter on to stave off your boredom, choose some other topic. Ideally something that might be of mutual interest."

Mutual interest? Snape couldn't possibly have guessed what Harry wanted to talk about, could he? And wasn't going to, not without feeling his way a bit first

"Er," said Harry, "er, why did you decide to do this?"

"Do what, precisely?"

"Come back." He waved his hands vaguely, not sure quite what he meant himself. "Keep helping the Order. After... after Dumbledore, you must have seen in the _Prophet_ , or heard from someone who had, that you were identified as his killer."

"I trusted Albus to have left exonerating information about the orders he gave me, to Minerva if to no one else." Snape frowned. "I didn't think it would take so long for her to believe it."

"That was partly my fault," Harry admitted.

"So I have been given to understand." Opening his eyes, Snape glared at Harry. "Are you enjoying this discussion?"

"I want to know what your motives are," Harry said adamantly. Not that it really made any difference, but he was curious.

"It seems rather late for that, given that you will be relying on my help to destroy your enemy in less than a day." Snape raised his eyebrows. "I might also want to know yours."

"That's easy." Harry shrugged. "It's me or him, according to the prophecy. I don't like it but I've had to get used to the idea."

"But why work with me?" pressed Snape. "We have a long history of, shall we say, mutual dislike. You could have ensured that your partner tomorrow was Shacklebolt, or Moody, or any of a number of other people; you have enough prestige to have done that." For once he sounded more interested than contemptuous.

"I could say that you're the only member of the Order who's actually been inside the building, and knows the most about it, so you're the most... reliable."

"You _could_ say that." Snape pounced on the conditional. "But you don't."

"No." Harry stopped pacing and sat on the other chair, turned slightly away from his companion.

"Why, then?" The dark voice was wary, not a tone Harry was accustomed to hearing from those lips. "Because you don't trust me, I suppose."

Harry laughed at that, a choked snort that he couldn't hold back, even for Snape's furious scowl. "Rather the opposite, actually." They could both die, he reminded himself. Which would be worse – to speak, and risk Snape not just loathing him but having something to hold over his head, should they both live; or to stay silent, and possibly never have the chance again?

"What do you mean? You've never believed that anything I did was for your good, or the Order's good. _That_ has been evident for years."

"Professor." That was not right; Snape was no longer his teacher. To use his surname alone seemed equally wrong, somehow, and he _definitely_ was unable to call him "Severus." There was only one alternative. Harry shook his head and began again, watching Snape sidelong. "Sir."

Snape's eyes widened.

"I was wrong," said Harry. "I misunderstood what you were doing, and why. I apologize."

"Trying to salve your conscience with a last confession?" The snapped words were as condescendingly daunting as anything Harry had ever heard from Snape, but he went on nonetheless.

"Maybe, but that's not all I wanted to say." He faltered at that point, shifting on the seat of the chair and clenching his hands in the folds of his robe.

After several minutes, Snape said, "Well?"

"If we both survive tomorrow... um. I'd like to make it up to you. How I've acted all this time. Anything that you want, from me going away and never darkening your door again, to... well, to putting myself into your hands. For whatever you choose to do with me." Harry risked a more direct glance at Snape, who looked disconcerted. "And I do mean anything," he added softly.

"That is not necessary." Snape's voice was stiff, and Harry could see his throat moving as he swallowed. "You don't want..."

"I _do_ want," Harry knew that it was rude to cut across Snape like that, but he couldn't let the words be said. "Even Ron sees me as The Boy Who Lived, sometimes. You don't. There's no one I could trust more than the person who's seen all my secrets," he flinched and hurried past that tender subject, "who only thinks of me as Harry. Don't you understand?"

Snape was quiet. At last he said, " _If_ we both are alive, this time tomorrow... you may make me that offer again, if you still mean it."

"I will." The promise was sweet on Harry's tongue. "I will."


	22. Mirror, Mirror

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If only the mirror-world were real. Prompt #48, "Parents."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> darkladyothsith suggested Harry and the Mirror of Erised... big {hug} to her for the idea!

My mum's face shows she's proud and happy that I'm here at Hogwarts, and my dad looks pleased too. Their hands rest on the shoulders of my reflection, not pressing down, just solidly there. Safe. I'd feel safe if I could feel that touch. I'd feel loved. I _know_ they loved me – how can I disbelieve that, when my mum died to try to keep me alive? – but I can't _feel_ it, not inside. My reflection seems to know how love feels. He looks up at them and smiles. Why can't I change places with the boy in the mirror?


	23. A Fine Line Dividing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To save his freedom, Snape must risk a secret. Prompt #15, "Shaken."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> jelazakazone suggested using Snape with this prompt -- thanks to her for the suggestion!

He ignored his own unease. He was here for one purpose, to find evidence of guilt or innocence. If Dumbledore had provided proof, it was long gone; this was the only solution. Odd that Snape had been so reluctant to accept it, arguing for someone other than Harry to perform the task. Harry might not be skilled at Legilimency, but he _had_ seen into Snape's memories once before, and the Wizengamot had chosen him.

"If you are quite ready, Potter?" The tone was calm, but Snape looked paler than usual, his fingers twitching against his robes.

"Ready." He looked unhindered into Snape's dark eyes and saw memories of Dumbledore first cajoling and then finally ordering Snape to kill him. He felt Snape's reluctance and anguished acceptance. Murder under orders was still murder, but Harry's testimony would now provide some vindication.

He ought to have withdrawn, then, but one memory merged unbidden into another, very different one. Now it was Harry himself who filled Snape's thoughts, a Harry quite unlike the one he saw in the mirror each morning: handsomer, face filled with courage. The emotions that Snape felt toward him, had always felt...

Harry broke free, shaken. "You love me?"


	24. Nothing So Much

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry wants to have his Gin and eat cock too. Prompt #8, "Wrong." Harry/Remus, implied Harry/Ginny and Remus/Tonks. Adult.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title is from a maxim by Publius Syrus, "We desire nothing so much as what we ought not to have."

"Tell Remus hello for me," said Ginny cheerfully as Harry reached for the doorknob. "Ask if he and Tonks would be free to come for dinner next week; in a month or so I doubt I'll be awake enough to want company, if what Mum says is true." She rested her hands on her belly, swollen beneath her robes.

"All right, I'll ask." Harry turned back and gave her a quick kiss. "Don't wait up for me. You need your sleep and you know we always stay out fairly late."

"Yes, yes." She flapped her hands at him. "Go on. I'll have a cup of tea and read last week's _Witch Weekly_ before I go to bed. Lavender's first column is in it. Don't worry."

"I won't. I love you."

"Love you too," said Ginny, already switching on the kettle.

Harry met Remus at their usual table in the Leaky Cauldron. After almost three years of turning up every Thursday night, neither of them even had to order; Tom brought over a pair of Firewhiskies as soon as Harry had sat down.

"Ginny wants the two of you to come have dinner," Harry said. "Next week sometime."

"Next Friday is the full moon," Remus reminded him.

"I know." He kept careful track, these days. "Would Tuesday do?"

"Tonks has some sort of Auror training retreat, I think. Sunday?"

"That should be fine." Harry watched Remus' finger run along the lip of the glass before he raised it to his lips. "How has your week been?"

They never talked of anything consequential there in the pub. Only snippets about work, and Quidditch, and which friends were doing what these days. Remus invariably had two Firewhiskies, except for the week after his transformation, when it was three. Harry only had one, and then switched to Butterbeer for two more drinks.

Neither of them touched the other at the Leaky.

Sometimes one of them couldn't go to the tiny cottage that Harry had bought after the first six months. If that was the case, he would manage to work a reference to the Giant Squid into the casual conversation, and the other one would understand. Otherwise, within a few minutes of strolling out, they were kissing in the low-ceilinged bedroom as if they had been apart for weeks.

As happened tonight. Harry felt the familiar fire in his veins as he fumbled with Remus' clothes, stripping him bare. Remus had once been reluctant to let Harry see the scars that marred his body, and it had taken a long time to convince him that they were badges of honor rather than shame. His prick rose hard and hot and unscarred from the greying patch of hair at his groin. Harry pushed him gently to sit on the edge of the bed and knelt before him, inhaling the ripe scents of musk and sweat.

"I thought it was canines who sniffed crotches." Remus' voice had a laugh in it, and Harry looked up and smiled.

"You're welcome to do so if you want."

"No, I'm quite happy to... ngh," Remus broke off with a groan as Harry licked along the purple vein that was darker than any scar, then took the whole into his mouth. Remus loved it when Harry did that; it had taken months of surreptitious practice with assorted objects to learn to relax his throat muscles sufficiently. He still couldn't face a whole courgette without blushing.

They rarely had the time to go as slowly as Harry would have liked, so he didn't hold back, encouraging Remus by humming and bobbing his head, feeling Remus' hands running over his back and then gripping his shoulders.

"Oh, god, Harry," gasped Remus. "Almost there... yeah!"

As Remus came, Harry pulled back a bit, swallowing the thick bitter fluid. He stayed there and ran his tongue across the soft skin while Remus twitched and shuddered and threaded his fingers into Harry's hair, until Remus tugged him up into another long kiss. They tumbled backward, sprawling across the bed.

"Want me to reciprocate?"

"No, I just want your hand," said Harry, rubbing against Remus' hip. Not that he didn't enjoy having Remus' mouth wrapped around him or Remus' arsehole opening under him, but tonight he felt like being quick and dirty. Remus' hand snaked down and insinuated itself between their bodies, fondling the loose skin of Harry's balls before slipping back to brush a knuckle over his opening. Now it was Harry's turn to moan and rut with frantic need, finishing with a rush of pleasure that left him blinking sleepily, sticky skin pressed against Remus.

"I love you," he murmured.

Remus smoothed the hair away from Harry's face. "I love you."

It wasn't quite enough for either of them, these stolen half-hours and hours. Sometimes Harry wondered if Ginny guessed, if Tonks did. Perhaps he and Remus were greedy selfish bastards, wanting everything and each other too. Sometimes he wished he had been stronger, hadn't touched Remus that first time, hadn't heard the small noise that told him Remus felt the same way he did. Life would have been far less complicated.

But then, his life had never been simple.

"Owl me," he said, standing reluctantly and using a quick charm to spell them both clean. "About dinner."

"I will." Remus began to dress.

They held each other for a long moment before Apparating home.


	25. Growing Old Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry celebrates a birthday. Prompt #39, "Warmth." Harry/Draco.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follows the fic "Happy Christmas, Harry" by about 15 years, but it's not necessary to read that first.

"Seventy. I can't believe it. For a long time I didn't think I would make it past seventeen."

Draco put one arm around Harry. "And Horatio and Ariadne, Rosemary and Julian and their families are going to be here for the whole weekend. Don't worry, I'm going to put all the kids out in the tent; no running and squealing along the hallway at six in the morning."

"I wasn't worried." He leaned back into the warmth of Draco's embrace. "I'm looking forward to seeing them all."

"But first..." Draco bent his head to Harry's, kissing him. "Happy birthday, love."


	26. Preparation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The night before the final battle. Prompt #19, "Stone."

Harry slipped the photograph into an empty sleeve and watched Ginny wave, his heart like stone in his chest. All his efforts gone for nothing; he might as well never have bothered to break up with her.

He leafed back through the other pages. Sirius. Several even of Padfoot that Lupin must have taken. Cedric. He'd asked Mr. Diggory for that, a year after Cedric's death, and his parents had seemed pleased to have him remembered. The old picture of the Order, with so many faces gone forever. James and Lily Potter.

Closing the album, he stood. He was ready.


	27. A Most Excellent and Lamentable Tragedy (Or Perhaps Not)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco wanted romance, and Harry _tried_ to oblige. Prompt #13, "Balcony." Harry/Draco.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Crackfic, suggested by [fourth_rose](http://www.livejournal.com/users/fourth_rose/) \-- many thanks to her for the idea. All infelicities are of course mine alone. The title is misquoted from the full title of Shakespeare's _Romeo and Juliet_.

"Oh Draco, Draco, wherefore art thou Slytherin?" Harry called, tripping over some lavender and swearing under his breath at the knot gardens that infested the manor grounds.

"That's supposed to be _my_ line!" Draco leaned over the balcony rail.

"What?" Harry could tell that Draco was glaring although he couldn't actually see Draco's expression from this distance.

"Juliet says that line, not Romeo, you prat. Didn't you ever read the play?"

"No. What am I supposed to say, then?"

"Your line is, 'For stony limits cannot hold love out,'" responded Draco.

Harry glanced at the garden walls. "These can't, anyhow."


	28. And Next

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's hard to be a savior. Prompt #23, "Freedom."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to Marta for the suggestion that spawned this.

It had been a year since Voldemort's death. A year and two days, to be precise. The anniversary celebration was over, the _Prophet_ had published its obligatory interview, and Harry sat in the back garden of Grimmauld place drinking firewhisky before noon.

"What do I do now, Hermione?" His voice was desperate.

Hermione looked at him with sympathy, but spoke firmly. "You're free to do anything you want, Harry. Keep on with Auror training. Try out for a Quidditch team. Go into business with the Weasleys. Something ordinary and everyday."

"I've never been ordinary," he whispered. "I don't know how."


	29. Discovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry sees something he shouldn't. Prompt #38, "Knots." Hermione/Snape. Adult.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a_d_medievalist gave me a bunny for this -- thanks!

Harry stopped dead and stared. True, he rarely came into the library this late, but Grimmauld Place was still his house even if he shared it with others, and he didn't expect... this.

Snape's face was flushed, tipped slightly against the fabric of the wing-backed chair, but not nearly as bright as the scarlet of his prick, what Harry could see of it when – he gasped – Hermione's mouth slid upward. Long stained fingers knotted in her hair, urging her back down, though she seemed to need no encouragement.

Swallowing, Harry realized that what he wanted most was to join them.


	30. Upgrade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry thinks that Severus loves him for physical reasons alone. Prompt #1, "Doubt." Harry/Snape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written also for the "Their Insecurities" challenge at [snarry100](http://community.livejournal.com/snarry100/).

As he heard the floorboard in the hall creak, Harry hastily slipped the fat volume under a cushion and grabbed up a copy of _Which Broomstick_ instead, pretending to be engrossed in a comparison of the latest Nimbus and Firebolt models when Severus came in.

"How was your day?"

"Fair."

He never said more than that, never seemed to want to talk to Harry about what he was working on. Harry touched the spine of the hidden copy of _Moste Potente Potions_. Maybe someday he could get Severus to realize that he had a brain as well as a heart.


	31. Bitter Draught

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry resents what could not be helped. Prompt #24, "Dark."

There was something terribly unfair about it all, Harry thought. Magic should be able to do anything, right? A small voice inside him told him that he knew better, but he ignored it.

He had stayed home in Grimmauld Place for well over a month since being told at St. Mungo's that he would never see again. Mostly he sat in the garden, ignoring all his friends' efforts to cheer him up.

The one he wanted to see – no, to have visit – had never come, despite his promise the night Harry had been blinded, when Voldemort had died.

Harry was sure he knew why. Draco Malfoy always ingratiated himself with those he decided would come out on top. But now that the war was over, why would he bother with someone who had been little more than an acquaintance, who was now practically helpless? For a time Harry had thought that there could be more between them, but he must have been wrong.

He felt for the bell and rang it to ask Dobby to bring another glass of Firewhiskey. The hand that gave it to him a few minutes later was too large for the house-elf. "Who's there?"

"It's Draco."

Seizing the glass from him, Harry downed the contents in two gulps. "Go away."

"No." Draco's voice was quiet but determined.

"You couldn't be arsed to visit before. I don't want you here. Shove off, Malfoy."

"No," repeated Draco. "I suppose no one told you, then."

"Told me what?" Vaguely he remembered Hermione trying to read him the news, and himself shouting at her to leave him alone.

"There were... complications. With the Ministry. Both Severus and I were tried as Death Eaters."

"What?" Harry sat up a little straighter. "But you were working for the Order, in the end."

"Which is why I'm here now, but it took a while before they were willing to allow me access to the Savior of the Wizarding World." Draco sounded almost as darkly bitter as Harry felt.

"Oh." He paused. "Was there a reason you came?"

"I promised I would. I wanted to."

"Yeah, well, I needed you here _then_." Harry knew his tone was petulant, childish, but he couldn't help himself.

"I'm sorry. Honestly. If I could have been here, I would have," said Draco. There was a tentative touch on Harry's wrist. "Forgive me?"

"Come back tomorrow," said Harry, folding his arms. "I'll think about it."

A pause, and then Draco said, "All right, Harry." There was a _crack_ and Harry knew he had Disapparated.

He stayed, motionless, in the garden until Dobby came in the cool of the evening to lead him back inside.


	32. Passing Judgment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry asks Remus about his parents. Prompt #26, "Friends."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Partly inspired by a suggestion from fourth_rose.

"But what were they _like_?" Harry insisted.

Remus shut his eyes, a weary mask settling over his features. "You told me that you saw Severus' memories of them."

"Yes." Bitterness edged Harry's voice. "I saw my dad and Sirius teasing him, and worse. My mum was all right, but she _hated_ my dad."

"No, she didn't, any more than Hermione ever hated Ron." Rubbing his jaw, Remus added, "James could be a royal bastard but he also helped me cope with being a werewolf. Lily... your mum was a lovely woman, in every sense, and she knew it too well."


	33. Rendezvous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry meets Draco the day before confronting Voldemort. Prompt #16, "Regal." Harry/Draco.

He moved with an unselfconscious arrogant grace. Harry had never liked extravagant similes, but he had to admit that Draco resembled a lion, or some other wild cat: sinewy, confident, elegant. And just as dangerous as that lion, pacing in the clearing, waiting.

"Malfoy." Harry moved out of the shadow of the trees, wand at the ready. He had chosen a moment when Draco was facing his direction, wanting to be recognized before he was hexed.

"Potter." Draco's wand hand whipped up, then fell again. "How much time?"

"The attack is tomorrow." Harry breathed deeply. "For us, now – twenty minutes."


	34. Known

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ron understands Harry's nightmares. Prompt #33, "Transparent." Harry/Ron.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written also in honor of wolfiekins's birthday.

"No!"

Harry fought his way out of the nightmare. Sweat-damp sheets tangled around him, and he half-fell trying to stand.

He made his way to the toilet, afterward leaning his head against the cool hard tile.

"You all right?" Ron's voice came through the closed door. "Harry?"

"No." Harry opened the door; the concern on Ron's face made his stomach clench. "I... nothing."

Ron lifted a hesitant hand, touched Harry's shoulder. "Tell me."

It had been Ron he had dreamed of. Dead. "No." Harry twisted away, but Ron caught him.

"I think I know."

And kissed him.

So Harry kissed back.


	35. Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Ron fulfil Hermione's final request. Prompt #3, "Tomorrow." Harry/Hermione/Ron.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title is from Shakespeare's _Macbeth_ (Act 5, Scene 5, line 19), Macbeth's soliloquy on the death of his wife.

She had wanted no special ceremony for this. Ron would arrange a memorial service of some kind, to bring all their friends – those who were left – together once more, but Harry was the one taking care of her ashes.

"Choose a spot that overlooks the water, where there are daffodils." Her eyes had been bright with fever and pain, under hair cottony-white.

Harry had promised, had nearly caught bronchitis flying his broom to find the perfect place, and now he and Ron stood there together clasping the wooden box.

Ron's face reflected the same pain that Harry felt.

"Goodbye, Hermione."


	36. How to Boil an Egg

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ron needs some help learning to cook. Prompt #10, "Breakfast."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can be read as Harry/Ron or not, as you choose.

"How do you like your eggs?"

"You sat by me for breakfast for how many years at Hogwarts and never noticed that I prefer them soft-boiled?"

"You always insist on cooking. I might think you don't trust me."

"Just because the last time you tried to cook you managed to burn water."

"We can't all have your advantages."

"Oh, and living in a closet all my childhood and cooking for the Dursleys was an advantage?"

"You know what I mean. Right, how long do I let them boil, then?"

"Three minutes or so."

"Oops."

"Just let me do it, Ron."


	37. No Shadows Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes a what-if would happen anyway. Prompt #28, "Journey." Harry/Draco.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Partly inspired by Suzanne Vega's "Some Journey," from which the title phrase was taken, but _not_ a songfic.

The late afternoon light was golden, making the wine gleam like rubies turned liquid. Draco sipped pleasurably.

"What would have happened if we hadn't met at school?"

Harry frowned. "We didn't meet there. I first saw you at Madam Malkin's." He leaned back, then quickly forward again as the fragile chair wobbled under him.

"You know what I mean," said Draco, exasperated. "If I'd gone to Durmstrang, say, and we hadn't been in rival Houses, or any of that. If I hadn't been in a position where V-Voldemort," he still disliked saying the name, "could force me to try to kill Dumbledore, so that I had to run, and Snape ended up bringing me to the Order. What if we'd first met last year?"

"If I'd visited Rome on my own, for instance, and you'd gone there on holiday too, and we'd met in the Piazza Minerva?"

"For instance." Draco reached across the table and took Harry's hand.

"I'd have wondered where you'd been all my life," said Harry. "And then I'd have dragged you upstairs in my hotel and shagged you till the sun came up."

"Would you."

"Absolutely." Harry grinned. "Just like I'm going to do right now."


	38. Principles into Practice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In fighting an enemy, one must not become the enemy. Prompt #21, "Weeks."

"We should have gone in weeks ago," Harry said afterward. "All those Muggles in Nottingham would still be alive. The wizard prisoners wouldn't have been _Crucio_ 'd to death, either."

"There was no way to have known." Hermione's voice was firm. "We found the best information we could, made our plans, and we _succeeded_ , Harry, remember that. _You_ succeeded. You're not responsible for that suffering or those deaths." She took his hand.

"But what I'm proudest of is that we didn't do likewise. Every Death Eater we captured will be tried before the Wizengamot. No torture. No summary executions. True justice."


	39. Never Too Much

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is there such a thing as too much? Prompt #25, "Too Much." Harry/??. Adult. Consensual bondage.

The hands moved unpredictably; first tweaking a nipple, then running along his calf, then tugging at the hair of his groin. Blindfolded, gagged, bound to the bed, Harry could neither anticipate nor react, except that his prick grew harder, smearing fluid on his belly.

He had no way even to gauge how long it had been going on, how long he had been teased unrelentingly almost to orgasm, then left unsatisfied, only to have it all begin again. He whimpered, trying to push his cock against those moving hands, and at last – _at last_ – he came, trembling with the intensity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who is doing this with Harry? I'm honestly not sure. Originally I had Draco in mind, but it's really up to you as the reader to decide who you think it might be.


	40. Something Ventured

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry promised to ask again. Prompt #37, "Risk." Harry/Snape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sequel to "Laid Bare" (chapter 21 above).

He had been thinking about his promise in stray moments all morning as they fought their way in. Perhaps it had been a bad idea to make it; distraction was not something he needed, not when so many lives were at stake. But with Snape next to him, scowling with the effort of staving off the desperate curses of his former colleagues, Harry would have been distracted anyway.

Other members of the Order were supposed to have been breaking into the old manor from other entrances, but they hadn't yet encountered any of their allies when they reached the room where Voldemort waited. Harry was sure that his friends must be in the building, fighting the Death Eaters, because they had encountered too few for any other explanation. Unless some of the Death Eaters had fled altogether – possible. Not something he needed to think about now. Now he had to destroy his enemy, or be destroyed in turn.

"Do you think you can beat me, boy?" Voldemort taunted him. "You haven't the resolve to cast a killing curse. Dear Bellatrix told me of your feeble efforts." Harry drifted around the edge of the room, leaving Snape near the door.

"That's what we're here to find out, isn't it?" said Harry grimly. He drew out his wand, but made no attempt to curse Voldemort yet, only holding his gaze, waiting.

Voldemort came forward, his robes swirling around him as he pushed up his sleeves and sneered. "It will be sweet, very sweet, to at last complete what should have been accomplished twenty years ago. You were as foolish as your parents, to come here to challenge me." He raised his wand. " _Avad_..."

He never finished the phrase. Snape, disregarded, had circled behind his former master and slit his throat. Voldemort crumpled to the floor with a thud, his wand falling from his hand and rolling away.

"Surprising." Snape's voice was dry as he wiped his blade and toed at the corpse in its tangled robes. "I did not expect it to be this easy."

Harry nodded. "Neither did I. But I'm glad. I really didn't want to have to use one of the Unforgivables... although he was wrong. I could have, if I had had to. Thank you." He backed against the wall and sat down, weary after all the hours of anticipation and tension.

"You're welcome." Snape wouldn't meet Harry's eyes.

"The only thing is... you killed him. Not me. Which isn't what the prophecy said." Harry frowned.

"It would not have been possible for me to do so, had you not held his attention," Snape pointed out.

"Don't you want the credit for it?"

"Hardly," snorted Snape. "All I want is to be exonerated of any charges, and then left alone. Preferably for the rest of my life."

Looking at him, Harry believed it. Snape's always-sallow skin was papery, the circles under his eyes looking like enormous bruises, and he was gaunt to the point of emaciation. "All right," said Harry slowly. He pushed himself up to his knees. "Give me the knife."

Snape's expression was unreadable as he handed the blade to Harry and watched as he plunged it into Voldemort's motionless chest.

"There." His voice shook a little. "I can say truthfully that I stabbed Voldemort. Everyone knows that I was prophesied to kill him. They won't ask if you gave the first blow."

"Perhaps not." Snape sounded doubtful.

Harry crawled back to the wall and leaned against it. "Don't worry about it. I've had to deal with Rita Skeeter for ages now. I'll set Hermione on her if need be."

He was nonplused to hear Snape chuckle. "I would favor Miss Granger in that match."

"Me too." Harry sighed. "I suppose we should go tell everyone that we've won, shouldn't we?"

"I expect so."

"But there's something I have to tell you first. What I said last night..."

"Is forgotten," Snape cut him off. "You were far too apprehensive to know what you were saying."

" _No._ " Harry sat upright and glared at him. "No. I meant it. I still mean it, now more than ever. Call it an overdeveloped sense of Gryffindor honor if you like, but it's not just that. For all the mistrust I've shown you, I will make amends – and it's _your_ decision how I should make them. Tell me to leave you alone forever, and I'll do it. Ask for anything I own, and it's yours. You're the one person who knows me, inside and out, better than anyone, and even when I was rude or worse, you didn't change. Everything you did was to ensure that I would reach this day, just as Dumbledore planned."

"I stopped teaching you Occlumency," Snape reminded him. "Which I should not have done. You owe me nothing."

"It's not a question of owing. Don't you see, I _want_ this?" Harry burst out. He went on more softly, "I want _you_. If that's not what you want, then tell me."

Snape opened his mouth as if to speak, but at that moment Ron's voice came through the doorway.

"Harry? Harry, are you there?"

"We're in here." Harry mustered up a smile as Ron came in, followed by Hermione, and a moment later Kingsley Shacklebolt and several other Order members; some of them staggering a bit, but it looked as though everyone had survived. "We're fine. Voldemort's dead." He jerked his thumb at the bloody corpse.

"Oh, _Harry_ ," Hermione cried, pulling him to his feet and hugging him, tears running down her dirt-streaked face. "Oh, you did it, I knew you could."

After that there was no chance to speak again to Snape, not for hours. The wizarding world exploded with joy. Harry endured the endless questions, congratulations, speeches from the Minister and everyone else who thought themselves important. He thought he'd have gone mad without Ron and Hermione sticking by him, when all he wanted was to hear Snape's answer. Not until long after midnight was he able to escape, to flee to his room in Grimmauld Place, searching for silence.

There was a note on the pillow, a single word scratched on it in spiky black ink.

 _Yes._


	41. In St. Mungo's

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severus tries to give comfort. Prompt #46, "Tears." Harry/Severus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written also for the "Touch" challenge at [snarry100](http://community.livejournal.com/snarry100/).

Severus was unsure quite what to do when Harry wept. He had not shed tears himself in so long that he scarcely recalled what it felt like.

It was not that he did not understand; if Harry had lost both innocence and his closest friends, destroying Voldemort, Severus had experienced similar losses years before. He had simply had to endure the pain, and even Albus' trust had not made it easier to bear.

Self-consciously, he reached across the clean white sheets of the hospital bed and laid his hand on Harry's. Harry's fingers tightened, clutching at him like a lifeline.


	42. The Wager

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes there's an incentive to lose. Prompt #41, "Race." Harry/Ron.

"It's a bit unfair, you having the Firebolt when I'm on a Nimbus Eleven," said Ron heatedly.

"Swap, then."

Ron hesitated. If Harry won on the Nimbus... but then again, how likely was it that _Ron_ could win on the Nimbus? It was fine for Keeping, but as a long-distance racing broom, no. And with that wager at stake... "All right."

Half an hour later, he landed triumphantly and waited.

"You won," said Harry when he reached Ron.

"Mm hm." Ron pulled Harry to him. "Ready to pay up?"

"Of course." Harry smiled with pure delight as he knelt down.


	43. Sunset

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry wants time to think. Prompt #22, "Purple."

The stone skipped across the water, breaking the placid surface into silver ripples. The shadows of the trees wavered. Harry counted: one – two – three – four – five. He threw another stone, and another, as the sky darkened in scarlet and purple clouds. When he had last come out of this lake, Cedric had been alive. So had Sirius, and Dumbledore, and... Numbly, he let the final stone fall through his fingers onto the damp earth, and sank to his knees beside it, the wind ruffling his hair. He heard distant voices calling his name and knew there would be no respite.


	44. Stag Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _In vino veritas._ Prompt #5, "Destiny." Harry/Ron.

"You don' understan'." Harry squinted owlishly at Ron and took another gulp of Firewhiskey, then refilled his glass.

"Oi, leave some for us over here," Seamus protested, laughing, until Ron passed the bottle down to the far end of the table and returned his attention to Harry.

"What's not to understand? You and Ginny are getting married tomorrow; I'm happy for you."

"No." Green eyes locked on his own."'S destiny, y'know – s'posed to get the girl. M' reward. Doesn' matter if I wan' her."

"Don't you? She loves you." Ron forced himself to say it.

"But I love you."


	45. Lest He Forget

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry makes a pilgrimage every year. Prompt #31, "Forgiveness." Harry/Draco.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written also for the "Ghosts" challenge at [hd100](http://community.livejournal.com/hd100/).

Every year Harry insisted that he and Draco spend the Saturday before Halloween Apparating to various places around Britain: Godric's Hollow, Little Whinging, Little Hangleton, the Ministry building in London, Hogwarts – well, there they Apparated to Hogsmeade and walked up, of course – Malfoy Manor, and half-a-dozen other locations. At each one, Harry would stand silently for a few minutes, before grabbing Draco's hand and Apparating them to the next. It was several years before Draco realized that Harry's visits were to reassure him that the past held no ghosts, that those who had died because of him had forgiven him.


	46. Confession

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Confession can be good for the soul. Prompt #20, "Clarity." Harry/Hermione/Ron.

He didn't know he would say it until the words fell from his lips.

"I love you."

He could have blamed it on the Firewhiskey; certainly he'd drunk enough that he might have spoken Parseltongue without realizing it. But that would have been a lie, a coward's lie at that.

"Which?"

He squinted at the blurred figures, two voices speaking in unison.

"Both of you."

He expected them to recoil, repelled, but two sets of arms came around him, a red head and a brown pressed against him, and Harry saw with clear vision that they would never leave again.


	47. If Only

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco wonders if things could have been different. Prompt #49, "If." Pre-Harry/Draco.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For mordyn4 on her birthday.

_If he had taken my hand, that first day..._

But Harry hadn't. One choice had led to another, misunderstanding piling on misunderstanding, until Draco doubted anything could ever change. He looked up from where he huddled in a corner. Two days he'd had no fire; Snape had been gone for five, Draco's wand with him.

"Is it over?" Draco asked, his tongue thick with disuse.

Pity shone in Harry's eyes. "Yes. I'm to take you for trial by the Wizengamot." His hand was warm as he pulled Draco to his feet.

 _If only he had taken my hand back then..._


	48. Whence comes solace?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry is locked in his cupboard again. Prompt #35, "Severe."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title is from Thomas Hardy, "On a fine Morning."

Harry didn't remember when he was first locked in his cupboard, but by the time he was seven he accepted it as normal.

Sometimes he overheard fragments of conversation:

"...too harsh on him?"

"...have to... out, or..."

"...like his mother, she..."

He wondered often about his mother. He knew that she had died in a car crash when he was a baby, and that she had red hair; something Aunt Petunia had let slip. When the cupboard door was locked, Harry curled his arms around his thin pillow, and imagined he was hugging his mum, and that she was hugging back.


	49. Hold Fast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snape needs to be certain Harry means what he says. Prompt #30, "Regret." Harry/Snape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sequel to "Something Ventured" (chapter 40 above).

It had been a week since Voldemort's demise, a week since Snape had left his terse response – _Yes_ – on Harry's pillow, to say that he accepted Harry's apology and would allow him to make amends.

In that week Harry had laid eyes on the older man precisely once, when the Ministry had called all members of the Order of the Phoenix who had participated in the final attack to accept a formal thanks. Harry was told he would be given the Order of Merlin, First Class; the others would all receive the Order of Merlin, Second Class. He bit back his protest that Snape ought also to be granted the First Class honor. Although he had promised not to reveal who had been directly responsible for killing Voldemort, it shamed him to take credit that he didn't fully deserve. From across the room, Snape nodded almost imperceptibly when Harry flushed and stammered his thanks, and that kept him from speaking out.

But now, after a week of wild celebrations throughout wizarding Britain, things were dying down. The house in Grimmauld Place was quiet when Harry entered, careful not to disturb the portrait of Mrs. Black. He slipped along the hallway to the kitchen, where he knew there were a few Butterbeers left by the Weasley twins after an impromptu party two nights before. He had opened one and was taking a healthy gulp when a deep voice spoke from the doorway.

"Good evening, Mister Potter." Snape stepped into the room.

Harry choked and spluttered, setting the bottle down. "You're here," he stated the obvious. "Er. I'd started to think what you wanted was just to be left alone."

"I considered that possibility," said Snape. "It had a certain appeal. Upon further thought, however, I felt I should at least speak with you first." He indicated Harry's drink. "May I?"

"Oh, of course," Harry said hastily, grabbing a second Butterbeer and handing it to Snape. "D'you want to sit down?"

Snape nodded and waited with cool courtesy for Harry to lead the way into the next room. Harry sat on the worn purple-damasked sofa, hoping Snape would sit at the other end, but he chose an armchair a few feet away instead.

"I understand why you made this offer." Dark eyes bored into Harry's own as Snape drank.

Harry flushed; Snape's skill at Legilimency doubtless gave him more knowledge of Harry's motives than was comfortable.

"In part, at least. Your ideas of fair play and honor are as typically Gryffindor as I've ever seen. But I think you may come to regret this."

"I won't," blurted Harry. "I'm sure of that."

Snape raised a finger. "Don't interrupt, Potter." The way he growled Harry's name sent a shiver down Harry's spine and into his groin, and he nodded silently.

"You think that by submitting yourself to me you will expiate any offenses of the past, but I assure you that no matter what you do, your former misdeeds will continue to weigh on your conscience. There is no respite." The dim light of the lamps in the room exaggerated the lines around the corners of Snape's mouth and the sagging skin of his neck. "I could demand anything of you; you set no limits. One final time, I ask you: is this truly what you want?"

"It is." Harry swallowed. "I told you before. Especially now, almost everyone who looks at me will see me as not just the Boy Who Lived, but as the Chosen One, the Hero of the Wizarding World. Even Seamus, who shared a room with me for years, is treating me differently. But to you, I'm just Harry... and I need that. I need _you_. Do you want me to be plainer? Yes. You can ask anything of me, _anything_ , and I'll do it; just treat me as Harry, a real person, someone who maybe is irritating to you, but not set apart and untouchable."

"Not untouchable." Snape's lip curled. "You give yourself away, Mister Potter. But what if I do not wish to touch you?"

The question was like a blow. He had been certain that Snape was like himself, preferring men. Now Harry realized that he really had no evidence of that; he had merely assumed it.

"Then you needn't." He was proud that his voice didn't shake. "If you'd rather that I keep away from you, I will. It's the least I can do." He met Snape's gaze. "Read my thoughts if you'd like and you'll know I'm telling the truth."

"As I have tried on several occasions to explain to you, Legilimency is not mind-reading." Snape made an exasperated sound.

"Sensing my emotions, then. Whatever. You know that I can't block you, and I'm offering you the chance to look freely." Harry's mind was churning, memories from school mixing with more recent thoughts and fancies, a tangle of feelings that even he could not sort out but which had drawn him to put himself in this vulnerable position. Snape might laugh, might walk out, might pity him...

He did none of these things, simply looking at Harry, his expression unreadable but intent. What he said next came as an utter surprise.

"Only if you do the same."

Harry's mouth dropped open. Snape couldn't mean that. But the other man nodded, so Harry thought back to the one time that he had found his way into Snape's memories, and tried to recapture it, focusing on Snape's face and _pushing_ at his mind. It was far easier than he recalled, now that Snape was not attempting to shut him out, but the images flickered wildly.

"Oh!" As he tried to sort through what he was seeing, Harry recognized himself in Snape's thoughts, and felt a surge of emotion – compassion/resentment/pride/irritation/lust, all mixed together. This was how Snape felt about him, he understood, this confusion of feeling so similar to his own.

He blinked, overwhelmed, and suddenly Snape was next to him on the sofa. He smelt of bitter herbs and faintly of something that Harry could not quite place. Harry could see blue whiskers under the skin of his cheeks and chin. He reached to touch, needing to feel the roughness to anchor himself to reality once more, but Snape caught his wrist.

"What is it?" Harry asked.

"You..." Snape shut his eyes briefly, shaking his head. "I couldn't be sure, from what I saw. I am not the first, for you?"

Snape was frightened, Harry realized, though he couldn't see why. "No." He didn't elaborate, but Snape's jaw unclenched.

"Good." He sat back. "I came here tonight planning to refuse you. Oh, I was sure that you thought you meant what you said; and as a Gryffindor you would go through with it."

Harry waited when Snape stopped speaking. If Snape had planned to refuse him... did that mean he'd changed his mind, now?

"I still should, I suppose." The smile was bitter, self-mocking. "And I may come to regret this decision. But if I am the only one you trust to treat you simply as a person, rather than as a hero, well, you're the only one who thinks of me as something other than a traitor who has tried to redeem himself. And I can hardly deny the appeal of that."

Relief welled up inside him as Harry whispered, "I'm glad, sir." For the first time in months he felt unburdened by either obligation or achievement. He had no illusions that Snape would be any less prickly or sarcastic than he had ever been; he didn't want that. "Severus." This was enough.

"Harry," said Snape, and reached for him.


	50. Nigh

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes it's easy. Prompt #34, "Ancient." Harry/Draco implied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written also for the "Letter G" challenge at [hd100](http://community.livejournal.com/hd100/).

Harry paced back and forth, concentrating hard. _I need that final Horcrux._ Behind him Draco waited; this had been his suggestion.

"Ready?" Harry took a deep breath. "Let's go in."

The Room of Requirement appeared quite ordinary. Just a room, furnished with battered tables and worn chairs, bits of ancient bric-a-brac here and there. They began to look, picking up each item and checking it over. A dull gleam caught Harry's eye where an ornate letter "G" adorned a gold brooch. He didn't even need to check; he knew this had been Godric Gryffindor's.

It had been simple, after all.


End file.
